


A Trip to the Sin Bin

by maegunnbatt



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A little rough but a lot good, Alternate Universe - Roller Derby, Bazine is the worst, Ben Solo says a prayer to the old gods, F/M, Rey catches feelings, a little butt stuff because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maegunnbatt/pseuds/maegunnbatt
Summary: Rey glowered through her thirty second penalty. The Capidolls increased their lead by six points before she was released from the penalty box. Kylo Ref caught her eye as she sped into the pack, carefully, because one more penalty and she was getting ejected. She fought her way through the pack and the opposing jammer called the jam.Resistance skated back to the bench. The Admiral, with her signature violet hair, pointed at the last chair in the line. “Sit down, hotshot. You are done.”Rey hung her head low. Rose took the seat next to her and leaned against her shoulder.“You’ll get it next time,” she said, giving her a smile.“Not if he gets me first,” Rey said darkly.Rose followed her eyes to the Head Ref. “Careful what you wish for, girl.”





	1. Getting There

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was prompted on the Reylo Fic Recs Facebook group, by Stephanie, who went to a roller derby bout, saw a zebra named "Kylo Ref" and wanted a derby oneshot with Rey as a star jammer on the Resistance team, and Kylo Ref will NOT stop calling penalties... screaming match, game ejection, maybe a part where they break into the track while drunk to teach each other a lesson culminating in vicious floor sex? Because derby folks LOVE pain.
> 
> And I think I managed to get some of that. :)
> 
> For a quick rundown of Roller Derby: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roller_derby
> 
> Quick Terms:  
Merby: Male roller derby  
Zebras: Refs and other officials (in black and white striped uniforms)  
Panty: A helmet cover worn to identify the jammer (star) or the pivot (stripe)  
Sin Bin: Penalty Box
> 
> Roller derby team names are real, with the exception of the Southern Rocky Rebels.

The twelve-seat passenger van carrying most of the Southern Rocky Rebels roller derby travel team pulled into the hotel parking lot at half past midnight. It had been a rough trip. Rose had realized she’d forgotten her mouthguard before they’d even left Colorado Springs, and just after crossing the state line into Nebraska, Paige had shoved a whole package of gummi bears in her mouth and had to throw up, and when they’d reached North Platte for dinner, Jess had broken up with her girlfriend in a very loud and public manner on speakerphone in the KFC parking lot. A great way to spend a Thursday.

But Rey had been the driver for the final leg, and for the last few hours, everyone had nodded off, letting her have some much-needed quiet time. It was her rookie year, and she wasn’t quite used to the familiarity of her teammates. They had zero boundaries. Rey had once walked in on two of her teammates trying to help another one remove a tampon when the string had snapped. This was next level shit.

She cut the engine and woke up the rest of her teammates. “All right, Resistance! We’re here!”

They came to drowsily. Rose, bless her heart, lifted her head from the pillow scrunched up against the passenger window, drool leaking down her chin, and said, “Omaha?”

“Yes, Rose. Omaha. The eagle has landed.”

“Asses in gear!” Captain Phasmagoria growled from the back of the van. “We’ve got an eight a.m. wake up call.”

They shuffled out sleepily, checked-in while barely awake, and made it up to their rooms without fully opening their eyes.

Everyone except Rey. Rey was wide awake, still wired from the drive. Her roommates let their bags fall to the floor, skates hitting heavily, stepped out of their shoes, and hit the pillows without a second thought. Rey messed around on her phone for a half hour, then grabbed the bottle of Parrot Bay from Phas’s bag, and Rose’s leftover caffeine-free Pepsi (like, why even bother?), poured some of A into B, and then headed back down to the lobby, where she’d seen a TV replaying a Rockies vs Yankees game.

She settled down into a stiff armchair and was contentedly sipping her drink, one leg thrown over the arm rest, watching her team lose, when she heard someone clear his throat behind her.

Rey started, having thought she was alone, and turned to stare in the direction of the noise.

In the corner of the lobby, nose buried in a book, a dark-haired man crossed his incredibly long legs, propping his right ankle on his left knee. He was wearing black jeans, Adidas high tops, and a black hoodie. He looked like he could be merby, so Rey relaxed a bit, feeling like she was in the company of a kindred spirit, although he did still give off a little Stranger Danger vibe. Albeit, a sexy Stranger Danger vibe. BDE, all the way.

She stared for maybe a second too long, and he caught her, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. They were rich, dark brown, intense, lined in thick dark lashes, and the gaze he levelled at her made things slide around under her skin.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly.

Stranger Danger said, “Hey.” His eyes flicked to the TV screen behind Rey and he tipped his chin to the game. “Who’s winning?”

“Kriffing Yankees.” She scowled.

Stranger Danger gave her another glance before returning to his book. “Good.”

Rey pulled a face. “The Yankees are the worst.”

He scoffed, turning the page in his book. “They are an exceptional ball club.”

Rey scoffed back. “They fill their roster with a bunch of wash-ups on the backslide of their careers and pay millions for them,” she said, somewhat heatedly. “They are overpaid, overvalued, and overrated.”

His eyes moved down the page. “They are the most winningest team in history.”

“What, are you from New York or something?”

“Denver, actually.”

“And you’re not rooting for the Rockies?”

“I don’t look good in purple,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Seriously?” Rey watched his sensual-looking mouth, homing in on his full lips. She was fairly certain this guy would look good in anything… or nothing at all.

His eyes lifted from the page he was reading, and he looked her full on with an intense gaze. “My grandfather was a Yankees fan.”

Rey licked her lips. He had the kind of eyes a girl could fall into. She had the strangest sensation of something awakening in her, like a yawning, sharp-toothed jungle cat becoming suddenly alert. “That makes sense, I guess,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

Stranger Danger closed the book, keeping one long finger inside to hold his spot. “Are you here for the tournament?”

“Um, yeah,” she said, blinking. “How did you know?”

“Team jacket,” he said. He rose from his chair, arching his back in a slow stretch, and Rey got a glimpse of a moon-pale sliver of skin above the low-slung waistband of his jeans. Looking down at her with a smirk, he added, “Purple looks good on you, though.”

Rey felt a heated blush work itself up her chest and neck and to her cheekbones. “Thanks. Team colors. I didn’t pick them.”

This time the whole right side of his face quirked up in a handsome smirk. “See you around, Racy.”

“Just Rey,” she said, maybe too quickly. Of course, the back of her jacket had her derby name and number on it.

The smirk stayed in place as he bent down and whispered in her ear, his breath stirring the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Maybe lay off the sauce when you have a morning bout.”

He stepped back as if to gauge her reaction, and, apparently accepting that it was shocked enough, he turned and headed back towards the elevators. He glanced her way once more after pushing the up button, and Rey kept watching until the doors had closed on his face.

“The fuck was that?” she said aloud to herself, then glared down at her Pepsi and Parrot Bay concoction, which tasted like crap anyway, and sighed. She got up, glanced at the night manager, busy clacking away at one of the computers at the front desk, and gently set her half-full Pepsi bottle in the tiny trash can next to the complementary coffee.

Back in her hotel bed, which she was sharing with Rose, who was like a goddamn octopus, she curled herself into a ball and saw his eyes when she closed her own.


	2. Day One

**Southern Rocky Rebels vs the Cheyenne Capidolls**

The Admiral, their bench coach, had told the Resistance – a travel team made up of the best skaters in their league – that the refs at tournaments were always rough, especially in the first bout. The WFTDA rules, although universal, were often enforced differently by different leagues, and so you got varying interpretations of what is and isn’t a low block, for example.

And what constituted a low block? Well, Rey had some ideas of how she’d like to low block this Head Ref straight into next week. Usually, Rey liked the zebras. They were usually fine, upstanding people. Usually.

But by the end of the first period, Kylo Ref, the estimable head ref in question – who was wearing a hockey helmet like _he_ was the one in danger out on the track – had personally called Rey for cutting, back blocking, elbows, and low-block, which she strongly disagreed with, by the way, and it was starting to feel personal. And then she had gone to the penalty box for a multiplayer when her wrist guard had gotten stuck on Jess’s jersey. Total. Bullshit. The mighty Kylo Ref cut absolutely zero slack.

And what was worse, every time Rey went out on the track, she felt his eyes on her, like he was willing her to mess up.

“If you get six penalties, I’m benching you,” the Admiral said to Rey before she skated back onto the track after half time. “Watch yourself and keep it clean out there.”

Rey felt a slap on her back when she was pulling the star panty over her helmet. “Don’t fuck this up. You’re our best jammer,” said Phas. “And as much as I hate to admit it, we need you out there. Mostly because I don’t want to jam this tourney.”

Back on the jammer line, Rey took slow breaths and tried to let the rest of the world drop away. She heard the familiar opening notes of “Back in Black,” and one of the announcers – Tip Top’d Hux or Poe Jammer In, she wasn’t sure – came over the loud speakers.

“And leading off the second period from The Resistance is Racy DC, number 50hz, who’s already taken five trips to the sin bin in the first period. Let’s hope she’s learned her lesson.”

Rey glared over her shoulder at the announcers, blew them a kiss, and slapped her ass.

“I’m going to take that as a no, Hux. Feels like Racy is planning on taking us for another wild ride.”

The pack got into position, the whistle blew, and Rey tucked her elbows in and pushed between the shoulders of the opposing blockers, letting loose a savage growl that seemed to scare one of them enough to lose her focus. Rey pirouetted across the back of the scrum and took the outside edge in a few quick steps on her toe stops, grabbed onto Rose’s jersey when she got through it, and whipped herself out in front of the pack.

“With an assist from Rosie Rivet Her #1943, Racy DC takes lead jammer!”

Rey raced around the track, getting down low in turns three and four. Kylo Ref easily kept up with her on the inside of the track, each one of his long strides matching two of her own. She slowed her speed heading back into turn two – the blockers were a mess, taking up the entire track.

The Capidolls blockers switched from offense to defense, quickly reformed, and Rey hit a brick wall of Cheyenne. She juked and shimmied and slid all over the track, trying to find an in, meanwhile slowly pushing the opposing blockers into the turn.

When the opportunity presented itself, Rey didn’t think twice. She’d never pulled it off in a bout before, only in scrimmage, but whatever, fuck it, she wanted the points. She could get past the pack, call the jam, and the Resistance would pull off the first lead change of the bout.

So Rey juked right and flew left, jumping the apex.

She landed on the other side of the pack, hearing a quick, “YES GIRL!” from Rose and a wall of sound from the Resistance bench. Her heart lifted – and a split second later, it was shattered with a piercing whistle blow.

Rey knew without looking, but she looked anyway. Kylo Ref held up his arms in an “X” over his chest. He was calling her on a track cut.

Instantaneously, Captain Phasmagoria rose from the bench with her hands above her head, forming an “O” to request an official review.

Rey groaned as she skated off the track and circled back around to the penalty box. It felt like she’d spent half the bout there already. She sat down violently, the chair pushing back on the track and her skates smacking down on the floor with a satisfying _CLUNK_. She watched Phas and Nix, their assistant captain, make their way into center track to confer with the zebras – a mess of black and white stripes, the other captains, and Phas above them all, her silver helmet topping off her six-foot three frame – six-six in skates, hence her number. At her height, Phas was looking Kylo Ref straight in the eye, and they were mirroring poses: hands on hips, right knees cocked out, death glares all around.

Rey watched the scene play out with little hope. Official reviews hardly ever went the way you thought they would go, and much less frequently the way you wanted them to. Kylo Ref listened as Phas and Nix disputed the call. There were hand gestures. Wild pointing. Kylo Ref never looked out of control as he asked something of the other refs, who nodded. Kylo Ref said something to Phas and Nix, while pointing at Rey. The Capidolls captains looked pleased. Phas and Nix did not.

The penalty stood. Rey crossed her arms and glared at Kylo Ref, whose eyes had flicked back to her and it wasn’t until the next jam started that he finally tore them away.

Rey glowered through her thirty second penalty. The Capidolls increased their lead by six points before she was released from the penalty box. Kylo Ref caught her eye as she sped into the pack, carefully, because one more penalty and she was getting ejected. She fought her way through the pack and the opposing jammer called the jam.

Resistance skated back to the bench. The Admiral, with her signature violet hair, pointed at the last chair in the line. “Sit down, hotshot. You are done.”

Rey hung her head low. Rose took the seat next to her and leaned against her shoulder.

“You’ll get it next time,” she said, giving her a smile.

“Not if he gets me first,” Rey said darkly.

Rose followed her eyes to the Head Ref. “Careful what you wish for, girl.”

**After Party: Day One**

The entire team gathered in the hotel room Rey was sharing with Phas, Rose, and Jess to get ready for the after party. They’d lost their first bout against the Capidolls but won their evening bout against the Wichita All Stars, against all odds. When Phas put the star on her helmet and lined up at the jammer line, she sliced through the opposing jammers like a hot knife through butter, blip, blop, bloop. No one could hold her back. She was a goddamn instrument of war.

Tallie Hoe set up a speaker in the room and they were all bumping and twerking their way through her playlist as they got cute. Rey let Rose apply her eyeliner. Jess talked Rey into switching outfits with her, so Rey was wearing a too-tight black tank top and a tiny denim skirt with her motorcycle boots. Phas started handing out pre-party shots, and they all took some time out of their primping routine to grind along as Lizzo worked her way through “Tempo.”

A small fleet of Ubers arrived to take them all to the after party at a little club downtown, and when they pushed through the crowd as a wave, Rey was feeling the absolute security in numbers thing, and then Paige squealed about the mechanical bull in the back corner of the dance floor, killing the mood.

“I am NOT responsible for her tonight,” Phas yelled over the music to Rose and Rey. “Your sister, your problem, Rosie!”

Rose shrugged her shoulders. “She’ll be fine,” she said, watching as Paige took a shot from some stranger next to the bull, hiked her skirt up around her waist, and climbed on.

Tallie yelled, “BOMBS AWAY!” as she handed Paige another shot, which she tossed back just as the mechanical monstrosity lurched to life.

“This is fine. Everything is fine,” Rose said. They watched in horror as Paige bucked and flailed.

“Yep, looks fine to me,” Rey reassured in a strained voice before turning to the bar.

And then there were shots. And more shots. Rey and Rose literally ran into some of the Capidolls and danced with them for a bit, and then Jess appeared, crying, eyeliner running down her face, and wiping her nose on the sleeve of Rey’s thrift store hoodie, and Rose, who was basically everyone’s savior, took her to the bathroom to clean her up.

Rey took the opportunity to break from the dance floor – the Capidolls were busy doing some sort of synchronized dance to the remix of “Old Town Road” (because Wyoming) – and was making her way to the bar when she spotted the announcers, Hux and Poe, beer bottles swinging in their hands, while they talked animatedly with a tall guy with jet black hair whose back was turned to her.

Poe saw her first, and yelled, too loud, “BUDDY!”

Rey’s first instinct was to duck and flee, but Poe was already making his way over to her to pull her into a hug, and the tall guy turned around, and Rey found herself staring down Stranger Danger from the night before.

Their eyes locked. And held. Poe was saying something to her about Hux, but she wasn’t paying attention. She knew those eyes. Those eyes had been on her all day.

“— And I’m sure I don’t need to introduce you to Kylo Ref,” Poe said.

“It’s Rey, right?” He took a sip from his drink – something amber brown, with ice, and a wedge of lime smashed down at the bottom, still skewered with a stir stick – still not breaking eye contact. Who ordered a cocktail at the kind of place that had a mechanical bull in the corner?

Rey glowered. “Yes, it’s Rey. And what should I call you? Ref? Kylo? Satan?”

Poe let out a bark of a laugh. “The Resistance will not be intimidated by you, Kylo Ref!”

Hux called out, with a super fake French accent, “Viva la resistance!” and the two announcers clinked their beer bottles.

“You can call me Ben,” Kylo said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His voice was low and a little rough, stirring something deep in Rey that, quite frankly, didn’t get stirred that often.

“I think you owe me a drink,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. She licked her lips.

Whispering in her ear again, he said, “What would the little rebel like?”

Rey turned toward him, causing his lips to brush her cheek. Another trill shot straight to her core, and she stood up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “I’ll have what you’re having, Satan.”

He pulled away from her, running a hand through his thick hair, licking his own lips as he turned to the bar.

“I legit cannot tell if they are going to fight or fuck,” Hux stage-whispered to Poe.

“Neither can I,” Rey said. This time she joined Hux and Poe as they laughed.

“But for real,” Poe said when he finally caught his breath, “you were amazing this morning. Do you always play like that?”

“Like what?” Rey asked. She played how she played.

“Every time you were out there, it was like you were fighting for your life!” Poe said dramatically.

“And we are HERE for it, sweetie,” Hux said, draping his arm casually around Poe.

Poe nuzzled Hux’s neck, and Hux grinned a little sheepishly, turning his face to kiss the top of Poe’s unruly curls.

_Ah_, Rey thought, smiling, _that explains the extra-long intermission during the last bout of the night_.

“So what’s the deal with you and Ref?” Hux asked, breaking the sweet moment.

Rey looked for Ben in the crowd at the bar, catching sight of him just as he turned, two drinks raised high above the heads of the melee around him. “I don’t know… out on the track is one thing, but he doesn’t seem like such a monster now, does he?”

“Mmm,” Hux said quietly. “A different kind of monster, maybe.”

Poe and Hux exchanged looks.

Ben made his way back to their little group and handed Rey her drink. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Rey replied, clinking glasses.

They both took slow, long sips, eyes locked. He had brought them back whiskey gingers. One of her favorites.

Rey wasn’t sure exactly _what_ was happening, but she knew _something_ was happening. Something _big_, by her estimations. Her blood was on fire, and it wasn’t because of the whiskey.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked suddenly.

Rey nodded slowly. “I would like that very much.”

Ben knocked his drink back in one go, handing his empty glass to Hux, and Rey did the same, handing hers to Poe with a little smile.

Ben grabbed her hand and was pulling her to the front of the bar, his phone already in the other, arranging an Uber.

“You kids be good!” Poe called after them.

x x x

Ben didn’t let go of her hand. In the backseat of the Uber, he pulled their hands onto his thigh, her fingers laced with his, his thumb rubbing wide arcs over the back of her hand. He watched the driver’s phone, tracking the little icon on its way back to the hotel.

He had no idea what he was doing. He never did this. Although, he’d watched enough of his friends do this kind of thing, that he figured he got the gist of how it worked.

He glanced at Rey. She was gorgeous and ferocious and so _rough_ and he’d been thinking of her every second since she’d plopped down in the hotel lobby last night in her sweatpants. Right now, she was texting, one-handed, probably telling her teammates that she was headed back to their hotel.

Kylo had a certain image he kept up in the derby world. He was cold and stand-offish, a total hard ass out on the track when he put his stripes on and that whistle around his neck. But it was all part of the persona. That wasn’t Ben.

Because Ben? Ben was feeling hot, and he wanted Rey everywhere, in every way, and it wasn’t his ass that was hard.

Rey looked up from her phone finally, no doubt catching him staring at the way her little skirt was riding up her thighs. She was tan and firm and a huge bruise was blooming on the swell of her muscle where she’d fallen hard during the morning bout.

He switched their hands from his leg to hers, unlacing his fingers and spreading them out across her skin. She sucked in a breath between her teeth.

“Is this all right?” he asked quietly so that the driver wouldn’t hear.

“Yes,” she said, barely a whisper.

He slid his hand toward the inside of her thigh.

“How about this?” He leaned in close, his shoulder touching hers, his lips against her ear.

She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it.” He kissed her neck lightly, just a brush of his lips on her pulse point.

“Yes, Ben, that’s –”

Her breath hitched as his hands slid up further, fingertips ghosting along the crotch of her panties. She was already soaked.

Ben stifled a moan and slowly slid his index finger under the edge of the cotton fabric, feeling smooth skin underneath. “And this?”

“Oh God,” she breathed, shifting her hips and spreading her thighs just a little more. “Yes, that’s – that’s good.” She fisted her hand in his hair as he slid his middle finger slowly inside.

He ran the tip of his tongue up her neck so that he could whisper in her ear again. “So wet. Is that for me?” he asked with a soft groan.

“All for you,” she said with a shudder.

A shiver ran down his spine, and he pulled back enough to watch her eyes flutter closed. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down softly. She was divine.

Ben pumped his finger, once, twice, then added a second and began to rub slow circles on her clit with his thumb.

Rey moaned, loudly. Ben caught the anxious glance from the driver in the rearview, then looked down at the map. They were almost back at the hotel, thank fuck.

Ben scooted closer, angling his shoulders towards Rey as best he could with the seatbelt on, trying to block the scene from the driver. He slowly worked his fingers back and forth inside her, her breath catching again when he hit _that_ spot, and he did it again. And again. And when she moaned the second time, he covered her mouth with his own as she clenched and shivered.

Her tongue parted his lips and darted into his mouth. The hungry little noises she made when he drew his fingers out, and her perfect little whimpers when he pushed them back in, went straight to Ben’s cock. Ben was so enthralled with her mouth and her cunt and the way she’d drawn her right leg up, giving him full access, that he didn’t notice that the car had stopped. Not until the driver cleared his throat.

The spell was broken. Rey’s eyes flew open wide, and Ben pulled back, one body part at a time. First lips, then hand, then shoulders and legs. And Rey withdrew from Ben just as slowly.

She opened her car door and threw her legs out into the brightly lit parking lot of the hotel. A wall of August humidity hit Ben, sobering him up enough to finish the transaction on his phone. He tipped generously and mumbled an apology to the driver as he climbed out of the car.

Rey and Ben stared at each other for the briefest moment. Ben took a step towards her, and she closed the distance at breakneck speed, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other on the back of his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

He laughed against her mouth, pulling her into a tight embrace, grinding against her belly. It was her turn to feel what she did to him.

“Mmmm,” Rey said when they finally pulled apart. Her hand snaked down between them, running over the bulge in his jeans. She looked up at him, her beautiful hazel eyes full of lust. “I want that. All of that.”

“Greedy,” Ben said, pushing his knee between Rey’s thighs as he walked her backwards to the door of the hotel. “Better get you inside then.”

The automatic doors whooshed open as they entered the foyer, the chill of air conditioning hitting them like an arctic gust, and he fumbled taking the key out of his pocket to get inside the second set of doors. Rey took this opportunity to palm Ben through his pants again.

“Fuck,” he growled, lifting her ass up so she could wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her into the hotel lobby. Her hand was somehow still between them and she gave him a not-so-gentle squeeze.

At this rate, he was going to be lucky if he made it to the elevator without coming.

They trudged together like that past the front desk, like some strange eight-limbed monster, where the same awkward night manager from last night stared at them, mouth open, and past the terrible complimentary coffee they served 24/7. They were almost to the elevators when he heard a stifled sob, and the saddest voice in the universe said, “Rey?”

Ben groaned. He had a bad feeling about this.

Rey’s eyes flew open. Her hand stopped. She broke the kiss and looked over Ben’s shoulder, then slowly unwrapped her legs and slid down the front of Ben’s body until she was standing on the floor again.

After helping her smooth down her skirt, Ben promptly put his hands back on her perfect ass. It wasn’t a good idea for him to turn around just yet.

“Uh, hey Jess,” Rey said shyly over Ben’s shoulder. “You, uh, you’re not at the bar?”

The sad voice answered, “I didn’t want to be there with all those people, and then I – sniff – then I got back here and I didn’t want to be alone – sniff, sniff – so I thought I would – snnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifffffffff – wait for someone else to show up.”

Rey looked at Ben. Ben looked at Rey.

He surreptitiously adjusted himself and took the remaining few steps to the elevator door and pushed the button. He held a hand out to Rey, and said, simply, “Please.”

Rey stood there for a long moment, and Ben wondered if the way she was looking at him with those big, bewildered eyes meant that she was deciding that this whole thing was a terrible mistake. He fucking hoped not.

He chewed the inside of his lip as he watched the emotions play out on her face. He willed her silently to take the three fucking steps to him, trying to put all of those feelings in his eyes, trying to make her understand. This was beyond want. This was _need_.

But when the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and Rey still hadn’t moved so much as an inch, Ben lowered his hand and walked in, leaving her there in the lobby with the saddest girl in the world.

He punched his fist into the closed elevator door once it started to ascend.


	3. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *fans self*

**Sioux Falls Roller Dollz vs Southern Rocky Rebels**

“You know what will make you feel better, Jess?” Phas said around one of the six or so bananas she had swiped from the continental breakfast that morning. “Hitting. Some. Bitches.” She accentuated each word with a slap of her wrist guards.

They were getting ready to take the track for the second bout that day, and they were amped up, having beaten the Cedar Rapids Rollergirls with a double digit spread. But Jess was still crying in the makeshift locker room, blowing her nose in the practice jersey she’d pulled out of Rey’s bag.

Zero boundaries, and Rey was no longer in the mood for it. Not after last night. Not after Rey had sat up with her, rubbing her back and listening as Jess recounted every last second of her relationship with Octavia, and the whole time, Rey could have been orgasming under the hottest man this side of, oh, ANYWHERE.

Rey took a few deep breaths as Jess wiped some more snot on Rey’s practice jersey. “You can just keep that,” Rey said stiffly, when Jess offered it back to her.

“Okay,” Jess said after another long snuffle. “Put me in, Captain. I can handle myself.”

“She’ll have to, now that Tavia is gone,” Rose said quietly into the floor next to Rey. She was holding a child’s pose, stretching and finding her center, something she did before every bout.

They each had their rituals. Phas ate bananas. Rose did yoga. Jess used to FaceTime Octavia, but now she was just crying about not FaceTiming Octavia. Rey usually liked to put in her ear buds and listen to really loud classic rock, but first of all, she’d left her earbuds at home and secondly, she was too mad about the missed orgasm opportunity to really be able to think about much else. Jess Do It: Tournament Cock Blocker MVP, ladies and germs.

Rey had watched Ben/Kylo as much as she could. She’d seen him on the other side of the arena during the morning bout, leaning in the doorway that led to the locker rooms. He leaned well, all strong thighs and broad shoulders. Every time he raked his hand through his hair, Rey had to squeeze her thighs together.

He hadn’t taken center track until right before the Omaha vs Des Moines bout, when he came out during warm ups and took a few laps around the track. He was a beautiful skater, all smooth angles and surprisingly graceful for being so tall and broad. And his skates were like skis. Huge feet, huge hands, and a huge…

“Oh, look,” Rose had said, nudging her shoulder, “it’s your best friend. Wonder who he’s going to pound with penalties today.”

Rey had nearly choked on her hot dog. Because she hadn’t told Rose, not yet, and she had sworn Jess to secrecy in exchange for two hours of backrubs. She didn’t know what she was going to do about it. Had it been a mistake? She had sat through three bouts, squirming in her seat as she thought about how he’d touched her in the car last night, how their bodies just seemed to fit together, hoping his eyes would flick up into the stands and find hers. They never did.

And so now in the locker room, she sat with her teammates and watched all of their rituals, and loathed Octavia, because what kind of selfish bitch breaks up with her girlfriend when her girlfriend is on her way to a tournament? She was frustrated and anxious and didn’t know how he would react to her, since she’d essentially left him high and dry last night.

She, on the other hand, had not been dry. All damn day. No sir.

“Okay, let’s huddle up!” Phas shouted. They all rose to their feet and skated over to the center of the room, hands going into a circle as Phas started chanting, quietly at first, becoming louder as everyone joined. “Re-sis-tance. Re-sis-tance! RE-SIS-TANCE!”

It became a thundering sound and they all knocked their helmets together and skated out in numeric order for their intros. The lights in the arena dimmed, the announcers called their names, and they each skated out in turn. A spotlight followed the skater as she made her way around the track. “Bad Girls” by MIA played in the background.

“RACY DC, NUMBER FIFTY HZ!” Phas rapped her knuckles on Rey’s helmet and Rey grinned around her mouthguard as she skated out. Everything else dropped away when she got out on the track. It was just her, skating in the spotlight at the edge of darkness. She blew kisses at the crowd and waved with both hands. Some roller derby moments were pure joy and energy.

After the team was introduced, the houselights came on, and Rey turned from her team huddle. Kylo Ref was standing next to the whiteboard, talking to the jam ref, but his eyes snapped to hers, as if he could feel her looking. Rey knew there was definitely something there. His eyebrows pulled together slightly, and he went back to the conversation with the jam ref.

_Or maybe not_, Rey thought, pulling the panty over her helmet. She was on the line first, with Rosie Rivet Her, Tallie Hoe, Paige Bomb Bomb, and Phasmagoria. It was their best line-up.

The music faded back in for a moment while everyone got in their places. Rey rolled her shoulders to the opening chords of “Thunderstruck.”

Hux provided some context for the crowd. “Racy DC is back on the track for the Southern Rocky Rebels. After fouling out yesterday, she had a clean morning bout, only taking two trips to the penalty box against the Cedar Rapids Rollergirls this morning.”

“Watching Racy has been an unexpected treat this tournament. In her rookie season, she is showing a lot of raw, untamed power out there.”

The whistle blew, and Rey was off, pushing into the fray. The other jammer got out first, but Rey was out about five seconds later. By the time the lead jammer got around the track, Rey was hot on her heels, and she called it before any points were scored.

Rey caught Kylo’s eye and he gave her the smallest nod. She shouldn’t give a damn about his approval, but she found herself smiling at that smallest acknowledgement.

Rey took the bench for two more jams. They had three jammers on rotation: Rey, Nix, and Ace, but the blockers rotated a little more frequently. This gave Rey the opportunity to watch Rose out on the track, and she started to notice that one of the opposing blockers, Bazing-ya, a girl with a long black ponytail with teal blue highlights, seemed to be going after Rose methodically.

During one jam, when Rose was bridging the pack to keep the rest of the Resistance blockers in play as they held back the Roller Dollz jammer, Bazing-ya broke away from her scrum and hip-checked Rose, sending her flying into the whiteboard in the center track. Rey stood up quickly, but Rose got up quicker, popping back up and entering the track at the back of the pack.

Rey’s eyes met Kylo’s. He was impassive.

It was a legal hit, Rey knew, but it was unnecessary. Borderline cruel.

During the second half, having watched this business with Bazing-ya and having decided that maybe this bitch was actually trying to cause Rose real harm, Rey had had enough.

Rey was in a power jam, the opposing jammer in the penalty box after taking a track cut from Jess. Rey was on the other side of the track when it happened. Rose got separated from her other blockers, and Bazing-ya came out of the pack to hit her. And Rose went down. Hard. So hard that the front of her helmet bounced off the track. But Rose was Rose, and Rose had gotten up real quick and rejoined her blockers, but Rey could tell, could tell by the way Rose was wobbly on her skates and looking around wildly, that Rose was not okay.

Rey glanced at Kylo. Kylo shook his head, ever so slightly. Kylo had seen it, too, but there was no penalty there. Rey snarled.

She sped up, doing a loud hockey stop when she came up on the pack, announcing her presence. The Resistance jammers were playing some offense, trying to sweep the track for Rey, but it wasn’t working well, not only because Rose was disoriented and likely concussed, but because that bitch Bazing-ya was fighting tooth and nail to get to Rey. Literally clawing at her with sharp black fingernails.

So Rey backed off, slowed down until there was space between her and the pack, playing a little cat and mouse. Bazing-ya fell for the bait, breaking off and coming at Rey, hard.

Rey smiled, took three quick steps, and had a moment to savor the surprise in Bazing-ya’s face when Rey dropped her shoulder into the other girls’ solar plexus. With a battle cry, Rey lifted Bazing-ya off her feet and over her head, crumpling her in a heap on the track.

There was dead silence for exactly a second and half, and then everything exploded.

There were whistles, so many whistles. There were camera flashes. There was yelling, so much yelling, from both teams. Rey was prescient enough to realize her skates were taking her to the center track, to Kylo Ref, Phas following her.

She skated up to him, and his eyes flicked from Bazing-ya, struggling to get up from the pile Rey left her in, to Phas, and finally to Rey.

“That was… unnecessary,” he said, both to Rey and Phas.

“Oh, come on! You saw what she did to Rose!” Rey shouted.

“There was no illegal contact,” Kylo said in a measured tone.

Rey’s eyes narrowed. She raised her finger and poked Kylo’s sternum.

“Don’t fight it,” he warned, his voice low and dark, going straight to Rey’s core.

“GO.” Poke.

“FUCK.” Another poke.

“YOUR.” A harder poke.

“MOTHER.” The finger became a fist, which Rey gently thumped against Kylo’s chest, grabbing his jersey and pushing him backwards a fraction of an inch on his skates.

“Damn it, Rey.” Phas sighed. She hung her head and put her hands on her hips as she stared at the floor.

Kylo’s eyes were pools of black fire, the only indication that he was livid. He leaned in real slow, and in that time, Rey realized that whereas a minute ago the entire venue had been full of sound, it was now eerily quiet.

“Get off my track,” Kylo said between gritted teeth. His dark eyes darted between her eyes and her lips and her hand on his chest.

Rey held her ground, glaring up at him, but she let go of his jersey and pulled her hand away.

Kylo put his right hand on his left shoulder, drew it across his clavicle, then lowered his arm before pointing his thumb over his shoulder. When his elbow came up, it brushed Rey’s shoulder, and she realized just how close they were standing.

She felt electric heat shoot through her body, and in its wake, desire and a flicker of anger.

He was expelling her for gross misconduct.

“Go to hell, Satan,” she hissed.

He leaned in again to whisper, “I’ll see you there, sweetheart.”

Rey took two steps backwards on her skates before turning and finally breaking eye contact. As she skated off, some smartass started playing “Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill, and Rey being Rey, turned to the crowd, a huge smile on her face, and waved with both hands almost as joyfully as she had during her intro.

**After Party: Day Two**

“Let’s light it up!” Poe yelled across the table as he, Hux, and Rey raised tequila shots into the air. In unison, they licked the salt on the top of their hands, took the shot, and then sucked lime wedges into their mouths.

“Whoo!” Rey yelled, squinting her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she scanned the little hole in the wall they had landed in that night. Still no sign of Ben.

Tallie and Paige were out on the dance floor, and Phas was making out with Bazing-ya in a corner, even though Rey was RIGHT THERE and Rose was back at the hotel with Jess, a full arsenal of Kleenex and ice packs at their disposal. Before leaving the hotel, they’d shared a pizza and Rey had fielded a very distressed phone call from her foster brother Finn, who had been dating Rose since the beginning of time. He had been mad that Rose had been hurt, and while not excited that Rey had gotten ejected from the bout, had still been proud that Rey had fought for Rose.

“I’ll always fight for Rose,” Rey had told him. “Just like I’ll always fight for you.”

“That’s you, Rey,” Finn had said with a little chuckle, “Always fighting.”

Poe grabbed Rey’s bouncing knee under the table, pulling her back to the present, and gave her a searching look. “Looking for someone?”

Rey’s leg stilled and she attempted a weak smile. “Just looking.”

“Uh huh,” Hux said, unconvinced. “I’m sure this has nothing to do with someone tall, dark, and head reffy.”

Rey groaned and put her head in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, honey,” Poe said, patting her head.

“I feel so dumb,” Rey continued, the tequila and relief of having someone to talk to about this loosening her tongue, “because I just don’t do hook-ups, and it obviously meant nothing, and I… ugh. Fuck my life.” This whole thing was absurd. Rey didn’t invest in randos. Or relationships. Or men at all, really, but Ben was the exception, it seemed, to all of her rules. She was pulled to him. It was gravity. It was physics. And who was she to argue with science?

Poe shook his head.

“Let’s unpack that a little,” Hux said, clearing his throat and scooting his chair a little closer to the table so that he could lean across it to Rey. “I’ve known Kylo – Ben – for some time now,” Hux began, “and usually at these things—” he waved a hand around and sneered “—he shows up, has one polite drink and then goes back to his hotel room like the weird hermit he is.”

Rey lifted her eyes from the table and peered at Hux. “Okay…?”

“What I’m saying is,” Hux said, cocking his head to the side, “Kylo rarely acknowledges the existence of other humans, let alone takes _special interest_ in them.” He waggled his eyebrows a little.

“Oh,” Rey said. “So…?”

Hux huffed in frustration. “So obviously it is not nothing,” and then, softer, “you idiot girl.”

“That’s surprisingly reassuring,” Rey said thoughtfully. Maybe she’d gotten so used to not needing anyone that the thought of wanting someone, and having someone want her in return, was so foreign a concept it seemed impossible. Or something. Whatever.

Hux’s phone vibrated on the table and he unlocked the screen. “Speak of the devil.”

Rey bit her lip.

“He wants to know if you’re here,” Hux said, raising his eyes to Rey. “So are you?”

Her belly twisted and her fingers tingled – in warning or anticipation, she wasn’t quite sure – but she nodded anyway. “Yes,” she croaked, before finding a firmer voice. “Yes, I’m here.”

Hux quickly tapped on his phone. A second later, his phone buzzed and he looked up at Rey with a smirk. “He’s on his way.”

“Fantastic,” Poe said with a goofy grin, pushing back from the table. “This calls for another round.”

Rey felt suddenly sick and heavy, even though that tequila shot had been her first. Poe came back from the bar with two beers in each hand, handing one to both her and Hux and setting the fourth down in the open chair next to Rey, winking at her as he did.

x x x

Ben saw Hux first. His perfect ginger hair and pasty alabaster face were hard to miss in the dark bar. Poe waved him over with a big gesture, yelling, “Kylo! You’re not dead!”

Rey’s shoulders visibly tensed as he made his way over and pulled out the chair next to her.

“This seat taken?” he asked.

“All yours,” Poe said, cheerfully. “Got one ready for you,” he added, gesturing at the bottle of beer on the table.

“Hello, Rey,” he said as he took his chair.

Rey did not respond. Her eyes met his briefly, flashing with something Ben thought was almost fear.

_Careful_, he thought to himself. He felt edgy and willed his hand not to shake when he gripped the cold amber bottle of beer and lifted it to his lips. He set the beer back down on the table and casually draped his arm around the back of Rey’s chair, watching her body language closely as he did so. She relaxed fractionally.

A heady shot of hope raced through Ben’s veins. He had not been able to stop thinking about her – that ride back to the hotel last night had been the hottest sexual encounter of his admittedly forlorn little life, and the second his hotel room door had closed behind him, he’d leaned against it and undone the buttons of his jeans to free himself, lifting his fingers to his nose and mouth to smell and taste what was left of her there. It hadn’t taken much for him to be shuddering into his own hand, but the release hadn’t brought him peace. He’d been tense and touchy all day, waiting to see her again, and then when he had, the emotions surged so strongly he’d hardly been able to look at her.

And then there had been that business with the ejection. He’d almost lost it when she touched him. It had taken all his self-control not to push her down onto the track and fuck her right then and there.

Ben’s cock twitched, and he cleared his throat.

There was a moment of tense silence, during which Hux and Poe exchanged an awkward look. Ben was curious who was going to be the first one to break the silence. He could play this game.

Finally, Poe piped up. “Well, I for one am not looking forward to going back to work on Monday.”

“And what do you do?” Ben asked, taking another sip of beer.

“Pilot,” Poe said proudly.

“Commercial?” Ben inquired.

“Air Force,” Poe supplied.

“Ah,” Ben hummed. He could see it. Hux always enjoyed a man in uniform.

“And you?” Poe asked in turn, taking a drink. Was this a pissing contest? Maybe.

“Intellectual property law,” Ben answered. “International focus.”

“He’s fancy,” Hux offered.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Poe asked, gesturing with his beer bottle between Ben and Hux. Ben glanced at Rey, who was hanging on every word.

“Undergrad,” Hux answered. “We were in the same fraternity.”

“You were in love with me,” Ben said with a slight grin. “Let’s not lie.”

“Completely besotted,” Hux agreed, a dark look crossing his face.

“Followed me around like a lost puppy,” Ben said. He chanced a look at Rey, who was also grinning.

“Not my finest hour.”

“You made it to more of my hockey games than my own mother, and I’ve been stuck with you ever since,” Ben said, trying but failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He brought the bottle to his lips again, taking a long drink. In his peripheral vision, he saw Rey shift in her seat.

“Well, sometimes we choose our own families,” she said softly, her hand squeezing his thigh gently under the table, sending a thrill through Ben’s blood.

She continued, louder, “And anyway, you must have been a pretty decent player, because you still have all of your teeth.”

Ben looked her fully in the face this time, studying her. The tightness in his chest dissolved at the look in her eyes – something like esteem and understanding. He leaned in, moving his arm from the back of her chair to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They’d barely even met, but he’d never felt so open to anyone as he did to her.

“I think our work here is done,” Poe said, with confidence, standing up from the table and putting his hand on Hux’s shoulder. “Armie, let’s go to my place and see if we can break our record for fastest lift-off.”

“Ugh,” Ben groaned, breaking away from Rey to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Aviation sex puns.”

“He really puts the cock in cockpit,” Hux said in a low whisper as he stood.

Ben shook his head. “Please don’t.”

Poe leaned down to whisper to Ben and Rey, pointing at Hux as he said, “He’s the cock pit.”

“Oh god,” Ben said, “I didn’t want to go there.”

Poe shrugged. “Honey, I’m never _not_ going to go there.”

Rey laughed and stood to give Poe a hug while Ben waved Hux off and chugged the rest of his beer.

When Rey sat back down, she pushed her shoulder into his. “What’s going on behind those eyes?” she whispered in his ear, her lips grazing his ear lobe.

She smelled like warm vanilla and sunshine. “I’ve got something to show you,” he whispered back, not answering, but appreciative that she asked nonetheless.

“I’m sure you do,” she said, the tone of her voice going straight to Ben’s cock.

Someone bumped into the back of Ben’s chair, hard enough for it not to be an accident. Ben glanced up and was looking into the eyes of Rey’s captain.

“Racy,” Phas said, looking at Ben as she spoke, “you good?”

“Yeah,” Rey said. “But not as good as you, apparently.”

Phas turned her attention to Rey, then to the black-haired girl with severe brows and bruised lips standing on the edge of the dance floor in a black and white bodycon dress. Phas shrugged.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Rey asked, somewhat ungraciously.

Phas laughed. “Oh, kitten. That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

Rey just glared.

“Anyway, I was coming over here to tell you that I’m kicking you and Rose and Jess out of the room tonight. Paige and Tallie said you could bunk with them.”

“Wonderful,” Rey said, rolling her eyes. “I love it when you pull rank.”

Phas patted the top of Rey’s head with a smile before turning to leave, and if looks could kill, the tall blonde would have dropped dead under Rey’s glare.

“Kitten?” Ben asked playfully when Phas was out of earshot.

“Don’t even,” Rey said, although she was smiling. A strong blush climbed up her neck, and Ben felt the sudden urge to kiss her.

And so he did. Hungrily.

Rey moaned, reaching up to run her hand through his hair just above the collar of his black tee shirt. She deepened the kiss, pushing her breasts against his chest and nearly climbing into his lap.

“Stay with me tonight,” he blurted out when they came up for air.

Rey looked at him for what felt like eternity, before finally nodding. She then nestled her face into the crook of his neck, nipping his ear lobe. “Is this real?” she whispered.

He hugged her tightly to his chest, one hand smoothing her hair. He kissed her temple. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered into her hair. “I feel it too.”

**The After After Party**

The Uber moved quickly through the light Saturday night traffic as it took them to their destination, in and out of the white light of the streetlights. They held hands in the backseat, and Ben watched Rey’s face as she watched the town slip by her window, turning to throw an occasional smile his way.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he told her, not for the first time since leaving the bar. He’d had one beer, enough to temper his anxiety, and Rey had only finished half of her beer, her second drink that night. He’d asked if she wanted to stay at the bar a little longer, but she said she was ready to go. They were much more alert and aware than they had been the night before, for which Ben was glad. He wanted to savor every moment.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the arena, Rey turned to him with a questioning look.

He just smiled, giving the driver instructions to pull around to the service entrance at the rear of the building. He paid and pulled Rey across the backseat and into his arms.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her to a metal door next to the loading docks. He knocked three times, a quick rap-rap-rap, and after a moment, a bearded security guard opened the door.

“Thanks man,” Ben said, passing him a folded hundred-dollar bill in his palm.

“You’ve got two hours,” he told Ben quietly, sneaking a glance at Rey. Ben felt immediately protective. He pulled her closer.

They walked into the mostly-dark building through a maze of tunnels that emptied out onto the arena floor, lit only with the red security lights. The jumbotron was dark and silent, and without the noise of the crowd, or the music, or the sounds of skates on sport court, every squeak of their sneakers echoed.

Ben could feel Rey was brimming with questions. “Sorry I was late to the after party,” he said in a low, almost reverent tone as he pulled her into the center of the track. “I was making arrangements.”

“You’re forgiven,” Rey said. “This is awesome.” She pulled him into another kiss, her mouth opening to him eagerly. 

His hands travelled the length of her body, touching everything he could reach. He palmed her ass, one hand on each cheek, squeezing, pulling her close and up, until he could press his cock against her.

She gasped, breaking the kiss, and he took the opportunity to lower his head to her chest. Through the thin fabric of her tee shirt, he could feel that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He mouthed her nipples, eliciting tiny moans from her, and he sank to his knees, pulling her shirt up to expose the flat planes of her stomach. Her hands were in his hair, pulling deliciously, and he mouthed the firm skin of her belly, moving his hands to her hips and pushing down the elastic of her skirt waist.

“Ben, wait,” she said throatily, growling as he ran his teeth against the skin at her hip.

He broke away from her, looking up at her through his lashes, beseeching.

Her eyes were wide and dark in the eerie red light of the silent arena. “Are we alone?”

“Just you,” he said in a low, deep voice, “and me.”

Rey bit her lip, hands rifling through his dark locks. She nodded, twice, and Ben ran his shaky tongue along the edge of her waistband. She sucked in a breath as she closed her eyes, rocking slightly back on her heels.

Ben slid his fingers under her waistband and slowly pulled her skirt to the floor, kissing his way down, past the place where her muscular thighs met her body, down the tender inside of her thigh, where he nipped lightly, just to feel her shudder under his hands, down her knee, light flutters of his lips down her calves.

He was worshipping her, every inch.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

He reached back up and made quick work of her black cotton panties, tugging them down her legs, his lips much more sinful in the delivery of kisses and nips, teeth grazing her skin on the trip down. With each touch, her moans grew hungrier with want.

She stepped out of her skirt and panties, toeing off her sneakers as she did. Ben stood back up, tucking her panties into his pocket and pulling her into another deep kiss. He fisted his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. He ran his other hand along the column of her throat, and she whimpered against him.

Her hands worked down his chest to the hem of his shirt, snaking under and ghosting along the line of hair that ran from his belly button and disappeared into his pants. Her hands were hot and searching as they ran across his abs and up to his pecs. She rolled his nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, and Ben couldn’t bite back the growl that came from deep within him.

“Fuck, Rey,” he said against her lips, helping her lift his tee shirt over his head, then removing hers.

They stood naked chest to naked chest, and Rey said, with a mischievous grin, “You are still wearing entirely too many clothes.”

Ben fumbled with the top bottom of his jeans, but Rey swatted away his hands. “My turn,” she said.

With deft fingers, she unfastened his fly, sending his jeans to his ankles, and sank to her knees. She looked up at him, her eyes not hiding her appetite, gaze locked with his as she pulled his cock out of his boxer briefs and licked a pearl of precum off the tip.

In that moment, Ben clung fiercely to his control, knowing that it was futile. She would be his undoing.

Rey licked the length of him sloppily, her hand gripping his base gently when she laved her tongue along the tip, circling, and taking him into her mouth.

Ben knew he was bigger than average, and he marveled at her commitment to working his cock with her mouth, taking him deeper each time she lowered her head. When finally he felt the back of her throat, her eyes snapped up to his again, and, his control slipping, he couldn’t resist the urge to thrust into her mouth. She gagged and pulled back, a thick string of saliva flopping down her chin and onto her bare chest when he was free of her mouth.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “It just, fuck, it felt so good.”

“Do it again,” Rey said quietly.

Ben looked down into her flush face, chin wet, and pulled her hair, bringing her forward again to his cock.

She opened her mouth for him, and he pushed in until he felt the back of her throat again. He held her there for a few seconds, feeling the constriction of her swallowing against him. She breathed in heavily through her nose, and he pulled back. With just the tip in her mouth, she moved her tongue in a circle around the head of his cock.

Ben’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and thrust, fucking her mouth again and again. She hummed with him seated in her throat, and he knew if she kept this up, he was going to come. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet.

He pulled back on her hair, his cock ejecting from her hollowed cheeks with an obscene _pop_.

He fell to his knees before her, pushing her back with a kiss, hard and fast enough that she lost her balance and hit her head against the floor.

“Oh shit, Rey!” he swore softly, cupping her face with his hands as he looked into her eyes.

“Didn’t hurt,” she moaned, spreading her thighs under him.

He stood back up quickly, kicking off his shoes, and undressing faster than he’d ever done in his life. He kneeled between her legs, hooking one of her knees on his shoulder as he ran his hands over her. She was freshly shaved, wet and hot, squirming and whispering _please_ and _yes_ when he pushed in with two fingers.

When he spread her swollen lips and pressed his tongue against her clit, her shoulders lifted off the ground. She propped up on her elbows and looked down at him, panting. “Ben,” she whined. “Ben, wait, please.”

Ben stopped, withdrawing his fingers and mouth and raising his eyes to meet hers. “What is it, little rebel?”

“Ben, I—” she began, then stopped, her face screwing up with worry.

“Say it,” he said firmly. Whatever she wanted, he would give her. Now and forever.

“I can’t,” she said. Seeing his face fall, she continued, “I mean, it doesn’t work on me.”

Ben cocked his head to one side, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I… I can’t come,” she said finally. A tear escaped down her cheek.

“Like, ever?” Ben stroked her thighs with his hands, urging her. It was amazing to him, to witness someone being so vulnerable, so exposed. It gave him a rich sense of power… and responsibility.

She bit her lip. “Well, I can when I’m alone, just not… with… someone.”

Ben moved up her body, covering her chest with his own, and kissed away the tears. “Do you trust me?” he asked against her lips.

After a second, she nodded.

“Then relax,” he pleaded. “Just let go.”

She nodded again and he kissed her slowly, deeply, and then he went back to work.

He circled her clit with his tongue, holding her open to him with one hand while sinking two fingers deep into her wet cunt with the other. God, the sounds she made.

When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she bucked her hips hard, pulling his face back with his hair and clenching her thighs shut.

“You’re still holding on,” Ben said urgently. “Let go.”

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Please,” Ben begged, leaning his head down to kiss her belly.

Slowly, she nodded and opened herself up to him again.

Within minutes, she was bucking her hips again, smashing his nose, and he flattened his tongue and pushed down hard, providing friction just as he crooked two fingers inside her tight cunt, pressing against her upper wall. She let loose a feral scream as she came against his mouth, soaking his lips and chin. She tasted sweet, like the smell of summer flowers that only bloomed at night, and he lapped her up, caressing her inner thighs as her orgasm subsided.

The moment she came back to her body, her hands found purchase in his hair and she was pulling him up into a kiss. “That was something else,” she said.

He chuckled softly, pressing his forehead against hers.

She licked his chin, tasting herself there, and hooked her still-trembling legs around his waist.

“I need you inside me,” she whined. “Please Ben.”

He needed it, too. How he needed it so badly. The thing about Rey was, even from the first time he saw her, he felt like she’d been with him forever, like a song that had been hummed to him within the womb, something indefinable, but necessary. Comforting. Essential. And here in this red-light moment, Ben craved the feeling of returning to that long lost melody.

“I have a condom,” he said, making to roll off her, already reaching for the wallet in his pants pocket.

But she held fast. “No, just…” she kissed the pulse in his neck, and continued, “I’m clean. On the pill.”

“Rey,” he crooned, tipping his head back, giving her better access to his throat to trail kisses across his Adam’s apple. He throbbed against her thigh. How did she know all of his right spots? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she keened. “_Please_.”

He lifted his hips and lined himself up at the entrance to her dripping cunt, running the head of his cock between her lips, and over her clit once more. She lifted to meet him, her want palpable, and he slowly pushed inside.

She was tight, so tight, and she inhaled sharply as he sank down, slowly, deliberately.

“Relax,” he whispered, kissing her deeply as she slowly gave way, until he was fully seated inside her, her walls clenching.

“Stay,” she whimpered, her voice needy. “Just a second. You’re so big.”

He did as he was told, mesmerized by the contortions of her face as she got comfortable with the feel of him inside her, filling her up. When her eyes fluttered close, he started to move, slowly at first, but her whimpers and moans spurred him on, until they were both swearing and sweating, pace building to a fever pitch.

He needed a better angle, needed to reach somehow deeper. He pulled out and rocked back on his knees, swinging her right leg between them and flipping her over. “I need you on your knees,” he told her, voice rough and fueled with desire.

She complied, pushing her ass into the air and raising up on her hands. He grabbed a fistful of hair and plunged in with one swift stroke, the force of it pushing her forward. He pulled her back by her hair, lifting her face up to the jumbotron.

“More,” she moaned, looking over her shoulder at him. That was the moment he lost control.

The pace became punishing and brutal, his knees scraping against the track. She moaned his name, over and over again, a chant raised to the rafters of the empty arena, punctuated by occasional slaps to her ass. Not ironic at all, that a spitfire little derby girl would like her pleasure mixed with pain.

Her arms collapsed beneath her, curling up under her face so she could rest her forehead on her forearm.

Beads of sweat ran down Ben’s back, trailing down his ass. His hair was plastered to his face. He was close.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

Without hesitation, her hand was rubbing hard circles against her clit, and she was tightening around his cock. He was going to lose it any second now.

With a quick, quiet prayer to the old gods, he spit onto his thumb and ran it along the crack of her ass. She pushed against him and he pushed inside.

She came with a savage scream that masked Ben’s own growl as he came. He held her there for a long moment – hand in hair, thumb up ass, cock spilling deep inside this wild, gorgeous woman. It was dirty and beautiful and _right_ in ways he did not fully expect, but he fucking cherished it. He cherished her.

Her shudders and pulsations slowed, and Ben extricated himself from her. First hand from hair, and she laid her face down on her arms. Then thumb from ass, and she rocked forward on her knees. Then he pulled his cock out, and she sank fully to the floor.

Utterly spent, Ben laid down on his side next to her, pulling her towards him, melding her into the curve of his body.

She opened her eyes, and it made Ben deliriously happy to see her looking so wholly fucked.

“Holy shit,” she said simply.

He smiled and pressed a worshipful kiss to her forehead. “You’re incredible.”

“You too,” she mumbled, snuggling into the crook of his neck, and he wondered if that wasn’t becoming her favorite spot.

They stayed like that for some time, her breathing growing even and soft, his hands caressing circles on her back and hip. He waited until the last possible moment to rouse her.

“We need to go, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair.

She woke up slowly, blinking her eyes in the dim red light as he handed her shirt to her. They dressed in an easy silence.

“Have you seen my underwear?” she asked quietly, her voice sleepy and sated.

He pulled them out of his pocket and held them out to her.

She giggled and pushed his hand back to him. “Keep them, perv.”

He grinned and wrapped his arms around her, her back pressed to his chest. He put in an Uber request and started leading Rey back outside.

The ride to the hotel – turns out it was the same driver from last night, who eyed them warily when he pulled up – was quiet. Led Zeppelin crooned softly from the radio, a lesser known hit. Rey fell asleep against Ben’s chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. When they reached the hotel, the driver gave Ben a silent nod and didn’t say a word as Ben lifted Rey from the backseat. She woke up enough to wrap her arms around his neck, and he carried her up to his room, cradled against his chest.

Gently, he laid her on the bed. She spread out right in the middle, starfish style, which made Ben smile. He pulled off her shoes and laid her phone on the nightstand. He took off his own shoes and socks, then his jeans and tee shirt, and curled against Rey, pulling her close.

Their bodies fit together like they were molded that way. Intended. Divined.

“Next time, I get to be on top,” Rey muttered quietly, her voice heavy with sleep.

Ben buried his face in her hair, laced his fingers with hers, and slept like a man who had fought his way across a thousand battlefields and finally, _finally_ returned home.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the Resistance Team Roster...
> 
> Bench Coach: The Admiral  
Captain: Phasmagoria #66  
Co-Captain: Nix #96  
Jess Do It #1  
Rosie Rivet Her #1943  
Racy/DC #50Hz  
Paige Bomb Bomb #00:01  
Tallie Hoe #69


End file.
